This is his story
by NintendoNerd4287
Summary: Have you ever wondered about the start of the GGs? About why these teens felt that they had to express themselves through graffiti? About how Beat felt when he first met Gum? "There are no ordinary people. You have never met a mere mortal." - C.S. Lewis


**Summary:** Have you ever wondered about the start of the GGs? About why these teens felt that they had to express themselves through graffiti? About how Beat felt when he first met Gum? Well, this is his story. "There are no ordinary people. You have never met a mere mortal." – C.S. Lewis

**Disclaimer:** Jet Set Radio belongs to SEGA and all others affiliated. If I owned it, it would be a lot more realistic, meaning not every single cop within a ten-mile radius would be trying to kill these teenage rebels. Plot is mine.

**Author's Notes:** Seriously though, isn't the law enforcement in that game just a tad too harsh? I could totally see a bunch of thieves, murderers, and sex offenders taking advantage of the situation… Anyway, I have a ton of fanfiction ideas in my head, so I decided to start them all and continue on the ones with feedback that I know for sure people want (like NeverLand Pirates' Origins) so that I can get feedback on the stared ones during that time and I won't forget anything. Sound like a good plan? Cool. I love this game for 2 reasons: One, you're actually playing the politically correct "bad guy" by expressing yourself through graffiti and two, the music is awesome! I find most video game music annoying, but I downloaded the soundtrack to this game on my phone for free and I love it. I talk too much. On with the plot!

**Chapter 1: Alone**

Damp. Bruised. Wasted. Broken. Alone.

What do these words all have in common? They all describe how I feel right now, or rather how I've felt my whole life. Here is sit on this cold sidewalk, beside the streets of Tokyo-To, shrouded by darkness, and covered by rain. I had a streetlight to keep me company an hour ago – I think, I've lost my sense of time – but it burnt out. I'm just about ready to do the same.

How did I get here? Good question. My troubles started when I was in sixth grade. I remember that it was my twelfth birthday. I woke up in the morning excited to go to school for once, ready for the day ahead of me. I expected my locker to be ridiculously decorated and to finally be able to claim my prize from the prize bin. Oh, and don't forget the whole lunchroom singing in celebration of your birth. Yup. It was gonna be a great day. I got dressed and ate breakfast as fast as I could so that I could get to school quicker. Dad was already gone for work, which was typical for him. Mom had these sad-looking tired eyes that worried me, but after all she was mom. I was sure she was fine. She drove me to school like always, never forgetting to shower me with love. I walked through the familiar doors of Tokyo-To Elementary expecting a special welcome. No one welcomed me. I walked to my locker hoping to see it shining with glitter and balloons, but yet again I was surprised to see it plain and uniform. A few of my friends had formed a little circle in the hallway outside my classroom door. As I approached, someone finally took notice.

"Hey Pete! What's up?"

What's up? Oh ya know, my so-called friend who I've known for eight years doesn't even remember that this day twelve years ago I blessed the world with awesome by entering it. That's what's up.

"Not much." That's what actually came out of my mouth, though. I said nothing and hoped that he would remember his folly later in the day. "Alright kids, come on inside! The bell is about to ring." My teacher called us from her desk. After we all got in our seats and the bell sang its usual morning song, she got up from her seat and faced us all with a smile.

"Now I have a very special announcement to make." Finally.

"Thanks to all your donations…" Did the class actually buy me something?

"…we will be having a pizza party next week!" Sigh.

The class cheered. The day went on as usual. My special day was left out of the morning announcements. No one signed me a card. No one sang for me at lunch time. I never got to pick something out from the prize bin. I felt too ashamed to tell anyone, even my teacher. Children laughed and played. My friends and I were drifting apart. When the bell rang signifying the end of the day, I felt utterly and completely alone. I sat on the bench in front of the school, patiently waiting for my mother to pick me up. She was late. She had never been late before. I took of me backpack and unzipped it, smiling as I pulled out my radio-transmitting ear-blasting headphones given to me for Christmas a few years back. No matter how I felt, music was my escape. I had an MP3 player that I used when my parents were around. However, when away from adults, I would listen to a radio station that was sure to give me a spanking if they found out.

Jet Set Radio.

An underground pirate radio station that blasted non-stop funk, the radical music revolution was run by none other than Professor K. Every time I hear the rhythm of the beat, it echoes through my soul. My mind becomes mush. My feelings become static. All I can feel is the beat. When the beat is all I feel, dancing is all I can do.

So I danced. I danced like no one could stop me. I danced like I was on top of the world and nothing could ever drag me down. I popped and locked, hip-hopped and dropped. I feel like it was my calling, meaning, and reason for life.

"PETER!"

God, I almost had a heart attack. My mom called me from the car and I quickly ran to turn off my head phones and put them away, grabbing my backpack and heading towards the side door. The car ride was silent. Mother didn't say anything after that. The car ride was silent, and I was almost glad. My feelings came back and I didn't feel like sharing about my day at all. When we got home, I ran upstairs to my room fully planning to numb my head again. Before I could put my headphones on, I heard yelling from the kitchen. My mom was extremely angry at my dad, and she kept mentioning something about dad cheating. Like cheating at cards or something? I don't know. Dad yelled back that she was boring and stuff. Maybe he wanted to make the game more interesting… I was scared. I didn't like their anger. I heard some naughty words come out of their mouths that I was taught to never, ever say. I could take no more. I sat in the dark corner of my room and confided in the sweet melodious voice of the professor, but no matter how great the beat got, I was too saddened to even tap my feet.

My twelfth birthday was the day where everything in my life changed. Soon after my parents divorced and I was told that I had to switch between two different schools during the year to spend time with my parents at their separate houses. My mother had to get a fulltime job, leaving me to find transportation to school and anywhere else I wanted to go. I changed myself to get noticed though middle school and ninth grade. I tried a joint. I took that sip of booze. I kissed that girl when I wasn't completely thinking straight. I fell, and I fell hard. Mom fell into a depression so deep that she didn't even care what happened to me. Dad never cared. When I stayed with her, I had to deal with her whining. When I stayed with dad…

I winced. I ignored the throbbing throughout my body where my father had unleashed his anger. The rain soothed the bruises, but stung the cuts. My arms ached and my stomach curled. My waterproof backpack kept everything that was important to me safe: two outfits, some food, and my headphones. I ran away and left everything else behind. The memories brought back feelings more painful than the recent beating I had taken. Sadly, I will never be able to let them go. I stared up into the sky, yearning for hope. Hope for a family, and hope for a future. Then I looked at that light again. I sighed and closed my eyes to rest, my body beginning to feel numb. Would this be my fate?

Forever to be alone.

**Finishing Notes:** Please R&R! I would REALLY appreciate it!


End file.
